


I Want to Tell You That I'm Happy for You, But I'm Not That Strong

by ironfam_spiderfam



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 00:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15618606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironfam_spiderfam/pseuds/ironfam_spiderfam
Summary: It worries May that Peter can’t talk about it, no matter how many therapists they drag him to.Ben, on the other hand, doesn’t care if Peter won’t talk to strangers, psychology degree or not. He knows Peter will open up when he’s ready.OR: The five times Peter opens up.





	I Want to Tell You That I'm Happy for You, But I'm Not That Strong

Peter is eight years old the first time the bad thing happens.

Hell, that’s probably why it happens in the first place. Peter is young and quiet, innocent and inexperienced, the kind of kid that fuckers like Skip Westcott love to exploit. 

Peter never fights it. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Skip is sixteen years old and twice Peter’s height and weight. And besides, Skip doesn’t like it when he struggles or squirms. So Peter just closes his eyes and listens to the horrible, dirty things that Skip says and lets the bad thing happen. Over and over and over again.

He puts up with it for two years. Two long, terrible, depressing years of hiding the bruises on his hipbones and lying to the two adults that would sell their souls to protect him. 

That’s how it starts: hiding. When Peter is eight years old, he hides. He shivers whenever May says that she and Ben will be working late, because he knows who his babysitter will be. He shies away from Ben when Ben sits him down and begs him to talk about what’s wrong. And yeah, he plays Legos with Ned and does his homework and helps wash dishes at night. But he also lives in fear. He’s young enough that he doesn’t fully understand what’s going on, but he’s old enough to know that it’s all kinds of fucked up. 

When Peter is nine years old, he survives. He eats when May tells him to, even when he doesn’t feel hungry. Even when his throat hurts so much he can barely swallow. Because not eating will make May and Ben worry, and he’s caused them enough anxiety to last a lifetime. So he pushes down the pain and fear and nausea and tries his best to be a good kid. He eats the food May puts in front of him, helps Ben with laundry, and obeys his teachers. And he lets Skip do whatever the fuck he wants, because Peter is scared and tired of fighting.

When Peter is ten years old, Skip leaves for college on the west coast. And slowly, agonizingly slowly, Peter learns how to live again.

When Peter is eleven years old, shit hits the fan.

Because, see, Ben is a cop. Ben has read pamphlets and rescued kids from abusive households and come home frustrated and helpless when he can’t coax rape victims into pressing charges. Ben should’ve recognized the signs when they first started, and even though it was never his fault he spends the rest of his life wishing he’d looked a little harder.

Here’s how he figures it out: he’s sitting on the couch with Peter. They’re watching some Disney movie, the kind with singing animals that Peter loves. Ben is ticking Peter’s belly, and Peter is rolling around laughing.

And then, suddenly, Peter’s not laughing anymore.

He’s gasping and choking, his body shuddering with dry sobs as he frantically shoves Ben’s hands away from him. 

Ben panics, tries to reach out, and Peter jerks away so violently that Ben is afraid he’s going to fall off the couch.

They stare at each other for a moment, breathing heavily. Peter’s eyes are wide and panicked. Ben has a hand half extended, ready to touch him but desperately afraid to try.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispers.

“It’s okay,” Ben says. But it’s not, and he can feel tears burning in his throat, because he knows in that instant that someone fucked with his kid, and he didn’t do a damn thing to protect him.

Peter doesn’t say anything else. After what feels like a hundred years, he scoots back over to Ben and slowly, carefully lies his head on his chest. Ben runs a hand through Peter’s hair and tries desperately to figure out what to do. May’s still at work, and won’t get home for a few hours. And sure, Ben has been in this position before, with other survivors, but this is so different. There’s a reason surgeons aren’t allowed to operate on people they know, so to speak.

Ben is good with Peter, always has been. But it takes three hours of coaxing, reasoning, and, finally, begging to get two words out of him.

It took an ungodly amount of time, and it’s the only piece of information he’ll ever get out of Peter, but it’s worth it. Because by the time May gets home, he has a name. 

(Peter doesn’t say anything when May and Ben, both crying, take him down to talk to some of Ben’s on duty friends at the police station. He doesn’t protest when his Uncle Bryce, Ben’s best friend, tells May and Ben they need to leave while he talks to Peter. Peter manages to nod a few times when Bryce asks him some questions off of a clipboard. Peter even manages to point to the places where Skip touched him on a doll. Bryce tells Peter not to worry, that he’ll take care of everything. He says that Peter doesn’t even have to testify if he doesn’t want to. Peter doesn’t say anything; hasn’t said a word since Bryce took him into the little room and started asking questions. He thinks that Bryce understands.)

It worries May that Peter can’t talk about it, no matter how many therapists they drag him to. He just shakes his head and balls his hands into fists. He doesn’t cry; he never has, not about this. Which is funny, because he’s the kind of kid who cries when he’s happy, sad, frustrated, or anywhere in between.

Ben, on the other hand, doesn’t care if Peter won’t talk to strangers, psychology degree or not (besides, it’s not like they could afford any good ones, anyway.) 

He knows Peter will open up when he’s ready.


End file.
